One Hundred and Sixteen
by Sorcha Smith
Summary: The course of True Geek Love runs fairly smooth. In between snarky friends and dead bodies, anyway… (Sequel to "All In War With Time")


TITLE: One Hundred and Sixteen  
  
AUTHOR: Sorcha Smith  
  
RATING: R (mild NC-17)  
  
CATEGORY: SR, serious Grissom/Sara romance.  
  
SPOILERS: Don't think so.  
  
SUMMARY: The course of True Geek Love runs fairly smooth. In between snarky friends and dead bodies, anyway… (Sequel to "All In War With Time")  
  
DISCLAIMER: CSI is property of CBS and Alliance-Atlantis Productions. I'm just borrowing 'em for a little fun. No infringement intended.  
  
FEEDBACK: You betcha! Email to sorcha_mise@yahoo.com  
  
ARCHIVAL: Just ask first.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sequel to "All In War With Time", but pretty self- contained. And Devanie made me write this one all by myself. Thanks to her and Amanda for the feedback and encouragement.  
  
------------------------  
  
  
  
Sara Sidle awoke. She'd spent most of her life thinking of sleep as a waste of valuable time. And lying around in bed, not asleep, as even more of a waste. But all that had changed lately, thanks to the man whose soft breathing was ruffling her hair slightly. They had been teacher and student, then boss and employee, and now... Now they were just Gil and Sara. A couple of science nerds in love.  
  
She leaned back to cuddle closer, savoring the feel of his warm skin against hers. Smiling, she asked, "So, Grissom, is that a Maglite in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"  
  
She was rewarded with a low voice in her ear replying, "Why don't you investigate?"  
  
Laughing, she rolled over and kissed him, proceeding to do just that.  
  
Some time later, she concluded, "You were happy to see me."  
  
"I'm always happy to see you."  
  
She smiled at that and stretched luxuriously. The injuries she'd sustained in her attack were completely healed; bruises gone, no trace of a catch in her ribs, no headaches. It felt good to be alive and well and loved.  
  
As if following her train of thought, he asked, "How are you?"  
  
Sara knew what he meant and resisted the urge to dissemble. "You mean my state of mind. I'm fine. Really."  
  
"It's just, since you seem to have... issues... with attacks on women..."  
  
"How is it that I'm not completely freaked out? Am I really okay, or in denial, or will it hit me later?" He nodded. "Believe me, I've been wondering that myself. It drove me crazy, trying to figure out why I'm not crazy."  
  
"And?"  
  
She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "Maybe because he's dead. That's final. That's closure. He can't hurt me or anyone else again. I even looked in on the autopsy."  
  
Gil raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know that."  
  
"See, you *don't* know everything," she teased. "I asked Robbins not to tell anyone."  
  
"There were a couple of days there when we didn't have him."  
  
"Yeah." She couldn't look at him, and he knew that meant she was getting into uncertain territory. "I don't know. Maybe the painkillers held it off. Maybe because I kept busy at work. Maybe..."  
  
She fell silent and he waited, not speaking, not moving.  
  
Quietly, almost embarrassed, she finished, "Maybe because I didn't have to sleep alone."  
  
He didn't reply, just kissed the top of her head and hugged her tightly. To Sara, that said more than any words could have.  
  
Lightly, she said, "So. Day off. Any ideas?"  
  
"You used to hate days off."  
  
"I know. You were always telling me to go home and get a hobby. So I took your advice."  
  
"I wasn't expecting to be your hobby."  
  
"Are you complaining?"  
  
"Not at all," he smiled. "I think it's the only time you've ever done what I told you to."  
  
Sara laughed, punching him lightly. "Just for that, you get to fix breakfast."  
  
As they ate, they talked about their usual topic of discussion: their latest cases. It wasn't average mealtime chat, but then they weren't average people.  
  
This was further proven after breakfast when Sara remarked, "I really *am* getting behind in my reading."  
  
"So am I."  
  
"Aha!" she laughed triumphantly.  
  
They sat together in companionable silence, working their way through a small stack of forensics journals and science magazines. Occasionally one of them would read something particularly interesting aloud, and they had a brief discussion over whether the footnote on page 247 was actually a mistake or just a typo.  
  
Grissom set down his entomological journal (with a Post-It note marking a page he wanted to send in a correction about) and said, "I'm going to go take a shower."  
  
"Okay," Sara replied absently, then looked up and asked, "Want some company?"  
  
"We *do* live in a desert."  
  
"Gotta save water," she nodded.  
  
Standing under the hot water, Sara commented, "This is something nobody talks about, about being in a relationship. Having someone to reach those spots on your back you can never really scrub." She ran her soap-covered hands along his shoulders and down the length of his back.  
  
"Yeah." He turned to face her and she smiled. She loved it when his hair was wet, the way the curls got unruly. "Your turn."  
  
Obediently, she did, leaning against his strong hands. Then she sighed in pure absolute pleasure as he reached up and started to shampoo her hair, his fingers finding every bit of tension in her scalp and working it out. Sara eventually turned to face him, kissing him deeply.  
  
After a minute, Gil asked, "You know what the statistics are for accidents in the shower?"  
  
"Yeah. Be embarrassing, wouldn't it? Race you back to bed."  
  
Eventually, Sara said, "There's two reasons I love you."  
  
"Only two?"  
  
"For the purposes of this discussion, *yes*." He smiled, pushing the damp hair off her face as she glared at him. "One: the way your brain works."  
  
"You only love me for my mind?"  
  
She laughed, "Oh, you *knew* that. You've known that for years. I like watching you think."  
  
"You too. I don't have to explain things twice to you. I don't even have to explain them once half the time."  
  
"Yeah, and once in a while – rare as it is – I get to explain them to you. Which leads me to my second point. We spend so much time thinking. Always got those ideas and puzzles running around inside our heads." He nodded in agreement. "I used to wish sometimes I could stop thinking just occasionally, but I never could. Day or night. But now – "and she broke into a slow, satisfied grin " — you seem to be able to do that for me. Shut my higher brain functions right down."  
  
He grinned too. "You return that favor admirably. So I suppose – for the purposes of this discussion – both of those reasons are why I love you, too." He kissed her. 


End file.
